Every Soul by L.K. Collins
For Eric – I miss you every day.
I hate that it has to be this way, and I’m sorry to have to tell you like this, but I’ve battled with this decision for so long. I can’t take it anymore, Bain. I just can’t. Please know how much I love you. You’re my brother, and no matter what, you always will be. Just because I’m not there, doesn’t mean I’m not with you. I know this is hard to accept, but for me, please try. The pain of this world is too great, compared to what’s waiting for me on the other side. I know this will relieve my struggle – it has to. Love, Kinsey.
Reading her suicide note again kills me. I still can’t come to terms with what she did. After Kinsey took her life, every day that passes I hope I’ll find some answers. Except I haven’t and I fear…I never will.
Staring at my unfamiliar reflection in the mirror, I’m pissed at the man I’ve become. I barely recognize my own face or remember who I used to be. I ease my pain the only way I know how and pop a few pills. As the white chalk dissolves on my tongue, I relish the flavor and know soon I will boost sky high.
“Bain,” my mother calls from downstairs. Jesus motherfucking Christ, what does she want now? If you think I’ve gotten bad since losing Kinsey, take a look at her – she’s farther off the deep end than I’ll ever be. Pulling my towel from my waist, I find a clean pair of boxers and jeans, this only thanks to our housekeeper.
Just as I exit my room, my mother is struggling up the stairs. I run to help her, but she gives up and falls face first onto the thick, cream carpet. I’ve seen her do this so many times that it’s no surprise, so I settle next to her, resting my hand on top of her messy, blonde hair. She used to be so well kept, and now doesn’t resemble her former self at all. “How much have you had to drink today?” I ask her.
She doesn’t answer me, instead shaking her head so I know she heard me. “The investigator called,” she slurs.
My stomach drops and a wave of nausea takes over. I know exactly what this means. Since my sister died, all we have is her assumed suicide note, which she texted to me. Besides that, the case has run dry – her body has not been found and there are no leads. We hold out hope that she’s still alive somewhere.
Barely able to choke out the words, I ask, “What did he say?” There’s a crackle to my voice, the pain cutting me deep within. This is not something I want to know, but I have to.
She begins to sob and rolls to her side, resting her hand on her forehead. Her cries turn to wails, and I know what she can’t say. The reality of knowing she is really gone is a tremendous blow. Deep down, I’d hoped against hope that she was still alive. But all along I knew it wasn’t true. We are fraternal twins, and when you lose that connection to your other half, you feel it.
She tries to speak, “They…He said…” She trails off crying, and in that moment, I don’t know what else to do except to hold her. Lifting her fragile body onto my lap, I cradle her against the bare skin of my chest and just let her be. Then somehow she finds the courage to speak the words, the words I’ve feared for months. “She’s dead, Bain. They found her.”
Even though in my heart I’ve known it, the words kill me, tearing apart my insides. Tears break the rims of my eyes. My tortured mind drifts, picturing her dead body, bloody and mangled. I immediately wonder how she killed herself. I’m spinning from the combination of my thoughts and the pills. Then my mom clambers off of me and darts into the bathroom. She gets sick and I…I slink away.
I know I should be there for her, but I need answers. I have to know what happened. I grab a faded, gray t-shirt and my car keys, and then bolt. Starting the engine of my car, I blast the heat. It’s another cold spring day in New Jersey, and of course I forgot my coat. Driving over the speed limit, I head to my familiar destination – the police station.
I reach for my phone out of habit, but it’s not in the cup holder. I pat both of my pockets and it’s not there either. Sonofabitch. I guess I’ll have to show up unannounced and hope that the ever incompetent detective will see me.
The last time that I was at the station, Detective Eldridge and I got into it. I accused him of letting the case go, of not taking things seriously. Needless to say, he didn’t like hearing that. However, I’m not one to hold back, especially when it comes to my family. I felt like he could be doing more and I let him know that.